


Weathering The Storm

by FireSoul



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 00:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14705600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireSoul/pseuds/FireSoul
Summary: Post 6x23. This is the second time Laurel Lance of Earth 2 has dealt with the death of her father, and it isn't turning out to be any easier than the first time. Plus she has to face this Earth's Sara, and this time she isn't going to lie.





	Weathering The Storm

She felt numb.

She felt completely and utterly numb.

He went to get her cake, just like every year. He came home with her cake every year, for twelve years.

But not that year.

He was a cop. If he was going to die suddenly then it should have been in the line of duty, not while he was out picking up her birthday cake.

She felt too numb to cry when they first got the news, but not Sara. Sara cried, Sara clung to their mother and balled her eyes out, then by the time Laurel was ready to cry their mom was asleep, or maybe faking it while she cried.

Sara slept in her bed that night.

From then on, slowly but surely, her life began to revolve began to revolve around taking care of Sara.

Their mom had to work more, a lot more. So Laurel was always in charge of dinner, homework, and making sure Sara made it to and from her activities on time. That was fine for a while; she welcomed the distraction of being the caretaker around their house. But as Sara got older, she got bitchier, and once she was self-sufficient enough Laurel found herself paying less and less attention to what her sister was doing.

That may be her biggest regret in life.

She wasn’t paying attention, Sara got on that boat with Oliver, and they both died.

Suddenly she had nothing, then one thing turned into another, she became Black Siren, and now she’s on another Earth sitting in the apartment she’s spent the past few weeks staying in with the doppelganger of her dead father, who is now also dead, because of her.

Sara, this Sara, cried by his side in the hospital for hours and she didn’t know what to do with herself. This isn’t the same Sara she used to comfort, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She couldn’t bring herself to cry either, not with Sara there. That was never her place, and here it’s even less so. Therefor she’s waited until now, when she’s alone in the living room of the apartment, to be able to sit on the floor and sob.

But it isn’t enough.

Somehow through her sobs she manages to hear the slightest creak of a floorboard, and her head snaps up.

“Sara,” she says, voice cracking. She sniffles and wipes her eyes; the other woman still standing there in faded pajama pants and an old t-shirt of her father’s, staring at her. “I’m… I’m sorry. I…” She trails off, Sara is moving towards her now and she isn’t sure what to say or do. She wants to keep apologizing, for everything, but she can’t. Not when Sara sits down next to her and pulls her into a hug.

All she can do is sob.

She isn’t sure how long she spends crying, how long Sara spends crying, or when exactly they eventually descend into this silence.

They’re siting on the floor with their backs against the couch, knees to their chests, and heads knocked together.

“I should’ve been there.”

Sara’s words eventually cut through the quiet and Laurel stirs, shifting to look at her.

“You were,” she says, confused, but Sara shakes her head.

“Not just today.” She clarifies, “Not just after you called me, to tell me he might…” She trails off, shuddering, “I never should’ve gotten back on that time ship after our Laurel died. I should’ve been here with him.”

Laurel thinks on that for a moment, trying to assess her boundaries here, and then she sighs. “If there’s one thing that he liked to talk about more than Laurel, it was you.” She says and Sara lolls her head to look at her. “I asked, once, if you were still around.” She smiles at the memory, at how what was originally supposed to be a means of getting under his skin had turned into one of his favorite things to share with her. “He told me you were still alive, that you were off saving the world on some time machine.” She pauses for a minute, but then decides to continue. “He told me how you used to be an assassin, and now you’re out saving the world.” She smirks at the memory. “Told me that’s why he was so sure I could do better.”

She waits for Sara to respond to that with baited breath, suddenly regretting crossing that line. Sara doesn’t know anything about her, at least judging by what she asked back at the hospital. The least she could do is preserve the memory of her sister for her by not talking about all the mistakes she’s made.

“He was proud of you.” She says, trying to save it, but Sara still doesn’t respond. Not at first, that is, but then she takes Laurel by surprise and grabs her hand.

“I should’ve said this at the hospital,” she murmurs as Laurel looks down at their joined hands, then up to Sara’s teary eyes, in surprise. “I’m sorry I didn’t, I think I was still processing the whole thing. But he loved you.”

She says it with the upmost certainty, and on some level Laurel did know that Quentin loved her, and she hates it. He wasn’t supposed to love her, he wasn’t supposed to take her in the way that he did. She never should have come into his life; he would’ve been spared so much pain and even his untimely death if she never set foot in this city.

She’s sobbing again, and Sara is pulling her into another embrace. She tries to stop crying, she really does, but Sara just squeezes her tighter and runs a hand through her hair.

“I know you loved him, and it’s ok.” Sara says and that does it, that freaking does it. Laurel shakes her head violently against the younger blonde’s should until it gets her a release.

“No… no!” She chokes, “No… it’s… it’s not!” She screams and Sara looks terrified, something Laurel knows is only about to increase, because she deserves to know the truth.

Once she’s calm enough to speak in at least semi-coherent words Laurel tells Sara everything. She tells her about Zoom, Cayden James, Diaz, and every awful thing she did for every one of them. She tells her about all the manipulation, about how she murdered Vince in front of Dinah, everything. She’s sure that by the time she’s finished Sara will be horrified, that not even the worst of her assassin deeds could ever amount to any of this.

When the end of her story inevitably comes Sara does look surprised, and Laurel feels like a sitting duck under her gaze. Then, finally, Sara squeezes her hand.

“It’s ok.” She repeats.

The crying starts again, and at some point it stops and they both get to their feet, an agreement reached between them that maybe they aren’t quite sisters, or maybe they are, but either way neither of them wants to be alone tonight.

They share Sara’s bed, and although it isn’t the crammed twin bed Laurel shared with her sister the night her father died so long ago, they still sleep practically one on top of the other. Sara is the first to drift off, her blonde hair tickling Laurel’s nose and her head an uncomfortable weight on her lungs. For the first time in days Laurel finds herself smiling, her hand instinctively tightening around Sara as she starts to drift into sleep herself.

This isn’t her earth, she knows that. But maybe, just maybe, these people can be her family.


End file.
